A graduate from Indiana University, Genevieve holds a Master’s Degree in English and a Master’s Certificate in Professional Editing. She has worked as Lead Transcriber on several published anthologies, including: The Collected Stories of Ray Bradbury, Volume 2 and the New Ray Bradbury Review.
Now, she is venturing out on her own, into the wilds of untamed lands and untold stories.
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For the past nineteen years, Rumpelstiltskin has kept his promise to Laila, the miller’s daughter. Her son, Tristan, must never know the dark deal they made surrounded by straw and gold.
But keeping the truth from a curious Tristan is the least of his troubles. He can’t escape the chill of bodiless eyes watching him. Wanting him. Hunting him.
When an Oracle confirms his greatest fear, she also confirms his greatest hope. A hope and desire he believed long dead.
Laila lives.
Or is it a trick to lure him into what he wants most to avoid?
Unable not to take the risk, he descends into a realm rife with danger, dreams, and shadows to face the deity he despises: Fate.
Soon, dream turns to nightmare as Rumpelstiltskin finds himself again propelled on a path he never wanted.
Caught between love and fate, Rumpelstiltskin must decide if he will choose the path to protect his own soul, or save that of the woman he damned.
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Keep reading for an excerpt:
“This is why you sought me out,” Aldred said.
“I had nowhere else to turn,” I replied.
Aldred, the scholar. Educated by the finest universities and expert in the black arts. Though he was not an immortal being as I was, no one knew more about the craft.
“If you are being followed or hunted, what, or who, do you think it is?”
I am looking forward to what I have in store for you, Fate’s voice resonated in my memory.
I clenched my jaw. Blood rushed through my heart and terror chilled my veins. I hated this feeling of vulnerability. In my heart I wished it were the devil, or some other manner of dark creature, but I knew only one being would toy with me like this.
I only hoped what I suspected was wrong.
“Only you know of what happened all those years ago,” I said.
“You mean with the girl…”
I bit the inside of my lip, Laila’s memory still raw in my gut after all these years.
“I allowed myself to become such a fool at Fate’s hands. I can’t have it happen again. I’ve taken every precaution to rid myself of such an error,” I said.
“You believe Fate is preparing to use you to fulfill some destiny.”
I remained silent. Such a thought was abhorrent to me, but it was what I feared. And now without being able to see my future…
He cleared his throat.
“Does the boy know?”
“No,” I paced across the groaning floorboards, careful to avoid his towers of books. “He never will. I swore to his mother never to tell him the truth of what happened between her and I. It’s one of the reasons he despises me.”
“I’m sure it’s not come to that. You’ve raised him well all these years. The heart remembers what good has been done towards it.”
I wasn’t sure. As Tristan grew so did my guilt, and a distance took root between us. I couldn’t help but associate Tristan with loss.
I recalled how I started to crave the distance. The numbness. I journeyed farther and longer away, hunting desperate souls that would help soothe my own.
“I can bear his scorn for Laila,” I said.
He rested his hand on my shoulder.
“Perhaps this sensation is not Fate, but only a manifestation of your guilt,” he said.
I chuckled.
“I’ve lived with my guilt so long I’m perfectly used to the sensation. No, this has Fate’s stench all over it. But without the cards, I can’t be certain.”
I shook off his hand.
“I know what you are wanting. She is too dangerous,” he said.
“I am well aware, but I have no choice. I must find her. My powers of foresight are not strong enough. Only she can tell me what I can do to avoid what I fear,” I said.
“I’ve seen men go mad from what she told them,” he replied, urgency burning in every word. “I swore I would never tell another soul where she keeps. You must accept not knowing and adapt.”
“It is not in my nature to adapt.”
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